


Pillow Talk

by Nynaeve



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-27
Updated: 2008-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nynaeve/pseuds/Nynaeve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation as a married couple</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> _Another early fic...intended to be a series but I never got inspired to do more, so here's the one piece of it..._

Sam tossed and turned a little, trying to get comfortable, but no matter how she tried she couldn't seem to find that perfect position. Jack seemed to be depressing the bed enough that she felt she was sleeping on an incline and she let out a sigh. Although she felt a very real and deep pain when they were separated, the one place she never missed him was in bed, except when she really wanted sex. The rest of the time she gloried in unadulterated sleep and she secretly wondered if maybe the 1950 television characters weren't really prudes, but instead had the brilliant key to a perfect marriage. Maybe June Cleaver really was that happy because she got a full eight hours every night.

"Jack," she hissed. His leg has inched over to her side of the bed. "Jack!"

He jumped slightly. "What?" His voice was a mix of sleepiness and annoyance.

"Your leg." She nudged it with hers.

"I'm a full inch on my side of the bed, you have more than I do," he complained, moving his leg anyway. "I'm going end up on the floor!"

Sam grunted a thank you and rolled over. She heard him roll over once or twice as well. It looked like neither of them were going to be able to fall asleep.

"Sorry," she muttered rolling over to face him. Against the moonlight, she saw his eyes stare up at the ceiling and heard him take in a breath and exhale. "I just have such a hard time falling asleep."

"I always wondered why you liked to join me on third watch whenever we were in the field," Jack responded with a small smile. "I thought maybe it was my charming personality."

"Hey I liked talking to you," she retorted, scooting over and leaning on her arms.

"I liked it too. It's not everyday a hot scientist gives me the time of day."

Sam groaned as he got "that" tone in his voice and lifted his head enough to get a peek down her cotton camisole. "I've got to be up at six!" The thing that had surprised her most about Jack O'Neill was the fact that his favorite thing to see her in was a simple tank top and cute pair of panties, no lace, and cotton was preferred. In fact, she had gone to all the trouble of purchasing some incredibly saucy lingerie right after her first fishing trip with him after the death of her father, expecting that they would consummate their burgeoning relationship in some very sentimental way. Instead, she had a cold and he brought her chicken noodle soup. He said it had been the way her sweats sat on her hips that did it for him. Regardless, he was sick within three days.

"Oh okay," he said, his voice sounding defeated.

"I promise tomorrow night. Trust me, if I didn't have to be up, I'd be all over you." Sam rolled back over on her back and looked at the ceiling. She tried deep breathing, but the sound of Jack's breath told her he hadn't fallen asleep. "You okay?"

"Just thinking."

"I thought that was my job," she answered, with a small giggle.

"No giggling, Colonel," he answered sternly, which only made her giggle harder. "Wow, that was a long time ago wasn't it."

"Ten years ago," she said, her voice soft as she remembered lying against him, trying to keep him alive. "I think you were still technically married to Sara then, right?"

"Yeah."

"If you don't want to talk about this…" Sam really did want to talk about it though. Their relationship had always been so sporadic, him gone, her gone, that they rarely talked about life and Jack had lived a lifetime before meeting her and she wanted to know more about what had shaped him. Her husband was silent and she waited for his invitation; she never pressed.

"You want to talk about it, though," he finally said. "I'm not good at all the talking stuff, but I can try."

"I just, I remember when I found out about Charlie and Sara for the first time. I guess I learned there was a side of you I didn't know and well you know how I am about things I don't understand."

"You're relentless in your pursuit of dissecting them?" His mouth had the hint of a smile.

"When you put it that way…" She let her voice trail off and contemplated how much of an open door she was going to get from him.

"So ask me your question, Samantha."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Sam bit her lip and ran through everything she had wanted to ask, but had stopped short. "Would you really have killed yourself?" She heard him suck in air and slowly release it. The one place she rarely went was Charlie's death or anything related to Charlie's death, but she wanted to be able to reach him in that hellish place he went to in the darkest moments of his life.

"Yes."

"That's why you took the mission to Abydos," she encouraged. Sam had rolled over again and was now leaning her chin on his chest, looking up at him.

"I figured I could kill two birds with one stone – Ra and myself." His voice was barely above a whisper and the gentle rays of the moon turned his eyes into dark pools that hid years of shame and regret. "But I came back and somehow I kept on living."

That he spoke again surprised her a little, since he normally kept his answers short and sweet. "When I saw you for the first time, I thought you were damn sexy. When you kissed me in the locker room, I almost didn't stop it. You made me feel alive in a way I hadn't felt in a long time."

"I thought you said you didn't remember."

"Yeah well, I lied. I had to." Jack paused. "I felt I had to. When I came back from Abydos, I felt stable, like maybe I could make it through if I had a purpose. But you, you were the reason I wanted to come to work. And before I knew it, you were the reason I wanted to survive."

Sam nestled closer to Jack. Maybe the 1950s didn't have it right. She felt his calloused fingers gently stroke the skin on her back where her camisole left her exposed. They laid there for a long time and she let herself lay her ear against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Her nose was enraptured with the scent of beer and sweat and a spicy aftershave that had faded into the background after having been put on in the early morning. A familiar tingle started from the top of her head and trailed down the through her stomach and down to her toes. He smelled raw and she loved it. Slowly she started tracing the inside of his thigh and she heard his heartbeat start to quicken.

"That's not my sidearm you know," his voice came in the dark.

"Yeah I didn't think it was," she whispered, moving to lie on top of him.

"I thought you had to get up."

Sam smiled, let out a small laugh, and hung her head down slightly before meeting his eyes again. "Do you want me or not?" Her response came when he rolled over and pinned her to the bed. He started kissing her down the neck and when she found herself unable to stop a moan escaping her lips, she knew that sleepless nights were worth having her husband near her, June Cleaver be damned.


End file.
